Him
by preposterousnotion
Summary: Puckleberry smut with Pezberry friendship on the side.  Rachel has a new game plan to find Mr Right, but she never expected to find Him.  Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

Him

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from glee.

AN: Okay, so to deal with my slight writers block in 'You Didn't Tell Me' (this is completely separate, and I will continue with this as normal), I decided to write some Smuckleberry.

It is mostly just smut, though there is a story line! Pezberry friendship, and slight reference to Santana/Matt. But most of all Puckleberry SMUT.

3 shot.

Comments are very welcome :)

Bree.

* * *

**Part 1: The Guitar Guy is Different**

"I have not been moping!"

"Oh fuck off Berry- you so have".

A few years ago, Rachel may well have flinched at Santana's casually placed profanities. But that would have meant developing a twitch from the constant scattering of curses through her everyday speech.

And besides, by now she realised that Santana didn't actually _mean_ 'fuck off Berry' in the literal sense. This being that she didn't mean 'Rachel please remove yourself from my presence'.

No. It was more on the line of 'I am serious Rachel' or 'your opinion is non-sensical when compared to mine Rachel'.

And Rachel and gotten past the point of trying to point out the benefits of expressing herself differently.

It was part of the reason they got on so well, she decided; they were so different.

And they somehow had ended up sharing a room at NYU.

And were now still friends, sitting in some bar, and Rachel, still new to the fact that she could now legally purchase alcohol, was nursing a vodka and coke, twirling the straw in her fingers.

"I just can't believe he was gay..."

"He voluntarily dyed his hair bleach blonde", Santana said, as though it was obvious.

"You can't honestly say you knew right from the start that he was gay", Rachel argued.

Santana just rolled her eyes.

"So… at least you're now one step closer to finding Mr Right", Santana said, releasing her dangerously blue looking cocktail to air quote.

"What are you on now… Four? Five?"

"Is this including Finn?"

"You know the answer to that", Santana smirked. "You dated the guy when you were what- _12-_ until you were just about hitting puberty… and even though you haven't really grown that much since, you have at least learned to appreciate that just because it looks like the Prince Charming from your kiddies' fairytales, it doesn't mean he's gunna stick around and show that he's worth you locking yourself in a tower and completely ruining your hair roots for…"

"I don't think Rapunzel locked _herself_ in a tower…" Rachel mused.

"You're distracting me betch", Santana scowled. "I was almost half the way round my bar scoping…"

"You are _not_ chosing me a guy", Rachel said firmly. "Remember what happened last time?"

Santana choked, spluttering sticky blue liquid down her arm.

"He stopped in the middle of sex because you hadn't initiated a threesome!"

"To be fair I didn't know you were going to sleep with him", Santana countered, a grin etched on her face.

"How could I know if he was Mr Right otherwise?"

Santana just smiled.

"I've taught you well, o small one".

Rachel glared at her and sipped at her drink.

"I make up for my lack of altitude in so many other ways", she said airily, causing Santana to snort with laughter.

"Maybe I _should _have initiated a threesome…"

Rachel raised her eyebrows.

"Need I remind you that he referred to himself in the third person?"

"He _did_?"

Santana was laughing again, doubling up on her stool.

"He was quite a looker though", she managed, recovering slightly.

"You are quite welcome to him", Rachel offered grandly.

Santana gave her a look.

"You should be well aware, _missy, _that I am in fact in an exclusive and serious relationship".

Rachel gave a heavy sigh.

"I still can't believe it", she admitted, slightly embarrassed. "Not anything against you… but look at you- you're _happy…_ and I'm sleeping around with complete strangers in the hope that one day, it'll be more than a couple of coffees and a box of chocolates… I'm tired of this shit… where are all the guys hiding? The guys in films that come along and sweep you off your feet and you never look back?"

"Did you just _swear?_"

"Is that all you took from that?" Rachel asked, grouchily. "I was spilling my heart out to you and all you can hear is that I swore?"

Santana shrugged.

"This is great actually", she said, "You being all emotional and vulnerable and shit… one of these fine gentlemen is going to get lucky tonight".

The guy on the stool next to Rachel turned abruptly.

"Not you though", Santana said quickly, "Quit smoking, shave, and I have another friend who might be interested…"

"_Santana_".

"Shorty?" Santana returned, with a sideways smirk.

Rachel narrowed her eyes.

"What about the guy with the spiky black hair over there?"

Santana huffed.

"Fine. But I get to choose the next one".

* * *

They were half way over. They were homing in on the prey.

Rachel was practising the perfect first smile, not too flirty, with a little bit of a hair flick for good measure.

Santana was flipping of every single guy who happened to accidently glance in her direction.

All was going to plan.

But that was before she saw _him._

She immediately realised why she hadn't seen him before, he was leaning over a guitar case in the corner, and she actually felt her heart fall to think that she had probably missed him performing.

He turned round to pack up the microphone stand and her heart lurched back up into her mouth.

The dark grey t shirt stretched across his broad chest as he stretched out arms which had most likely been sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

She wanted nothing more than to run up to him and just… just _touch_. Starting at his short crew cut of brown hair, knead those curved solid shoulders, and those _arms… _(she may have mentioned them before, but it was worth repeating).

His eyes flicked up, maybe sensing her gaze burning into him, and she stumbled unsteadily against Santana as his hazel orbs briefly acknowledged her presence.

"Abort. _Abort_", she hissed.

"What the actual fuck?" Santana replied, loudly. "You aren't chickening out Berry- I know how grumpy you get when you're horny and…"

"_Shut up!"_

"What!"

"1 o'clock", Rachel muttered.

"It's not even gone 11 Berry", Santana said, matter of factly, "Don't try that one on me".

Rachel groaned theatrically.

Santana had just about the subtley of a 4 tonne whale.

"Okay! Look, _Lopez,_ are you trying to ruin my chances with the _really gorgeous_ guy at _1 o clock_?"

Santana rolled her eyes.

"You're such a drama queen! Just get over there and make the most of the fact that he is now staring at you with a sort of sexy smirk thing going on…"

Rachel flushed red.

"Move!" Santana urged, pushing her gently. "You will look even more like a dwarf if you grow a beard dithering over here!"

Rachel moved, propelled by another, not at all gentle, push from Santana in the direction of the insanely attractive guitarist getting ready to leave.

"Hi", she said breathlessly, trying desperately not to fall over again as her knees turned to jelly at those hazel eyes…

"Hi".

His voice was warm and velvety and as he took a step closer to her the heat radiated from his solid masculine form and… _breathe- she must remember to breathe…_

"Rachel honey?" Suspicious, Rachel turned to find Santana smiling at her sweetly.

"Santana".

Ignoring her tone, Santana continued, her voice laced with false sweetness.

"I'm sorry babes, I have to leave suddenly, my poor Matt is dangerously ill- he's vomiting _everywhere_… I just have to get back… I'll call you okay?"

Rachel shot daggers at her.

When she turned back to the stranger, that smirk was back on his face, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Do you like tequila?" he asked softly, "I have some back at my apartment".

Rachel threw everything she'd ever learnt over her shoulder, quicker than she ever had before, and looked up at him through her eyelashes.

"I like tequila".

"Noah Puckerman", he said shortly, shoving his hand out in front of him.

"Rachel Berry", she smiled.

* * *

Furtive glances were sent back and forth across the backseat of the cab.

The cold leather no man's land between them was pricking with the electricity of attraction, of anticipation.

They both knew what was going to happen.

But for once, Rachel was actually looking forward to the build up to that point.

She'd lost all faith in relationships, when the one perfect one she'd been 110% sure would last forever had just petered out to nothing.

She had a new agenda, had a new found ability to forget everything she believed in about taking it slow, about building the foundations, about friends first.

She'd found that none of that mattered when she closed her eyes and surrendered herself to raw animal instinct.

Because girls want sex just as much as guys do.

Before he jumped out of the cab to pay the driver, his hand darted across to hers, squeezing it for a second.

And her heart skipped a beat because she wasn't second guessing his name.

And the fire licked up her arm and this was different.

* * *

He let out her name in what was a half groan and a half growl.

She bucked her hips against him again and this time it was definitely a growl that sent a shiver running up her spine.

His hot mouth pressed over hers again, his fingers tightening in her hair as she pushed her tongue through his teeth without hesitation.

Her fingernails dug into his hard chest when he moaned into her mouth, their bodies pushing closer together, as close as being fully clothed allowed.

Maybe he could rival her passion fuelled volume.

They wrenched apart, panting noisily.

"Noah… I want…"

"What?"

His voice was thick with desire.

He licked at the spot on her neck he had found, and she squirmed against him, causing him to let out a gust of stuttered breath, his breath cooling her wet skin.

"What do you want?" He mumbled brokenly.

He couldn't bring himself to tease her mercilessly.

He didn't need the satisfaction of teasing her when she was crushed against him like that, eager and already the better than any other girl he had bought over his threshold.

And there had been a few.

And all they had done was _kissing_.

"More", she stammered, and her hands were desperately scrabbling at the bottom of his t shirt. "_Everything_".

That was evidently enough information, because he lifted his arms over his head to allow her remove his t shirt.

Her hands flew to the waistband of his pants when she had completed her task.

He stopped her, his large hand stilling on top of her small ones.

"Slow down", he whispered.

Then, in a low murmur that had the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Slow down and I'll give you _more_ than everything".

She whimpered, a sound foreign to her, and their lips met in the middle in a languid kiss that seemed out of place with him half naked and her little finger playing with his nipple ring, her hands running over the hard curves of his chest.

He lifted her up against the wall gradually, his kisses growing more insistent, their tongues battling for dominance.

He ground gently against her and she choked a moan at the back of her throat.

"Noah".

Why was he even considering taking things slowly? Why was he able to resist the urge to rip all her clothes off and take her right there against the wall?

She sucked on his pulse point, her hand on the back of his head pulling him to her.

And he wanted this feeling to last as long as possible.

He shifted her up slightly, so that his erection was pressing against her core, his hand on her thigh hitching up her skirt, grunting out her name at the combination of the delicious friction and the softness of her skin underneath his fingertips.

Without warning, he spun her away from the wall, holding her up easily and moving swiftly across his apartment to the bedroom.

And he laid her on the bed.

Time stood still for a prolonged moment as their eyes met, both dancing with flames and darkened with desire.

He ghosted the curve of her cheekbones with open lips, nibbling at her swollen top lip.

She formed some word of appreciation, and his laughter rumbled through his body at its incomprehensibility.

She was helpless to his calloused fingers running all over her body, almost gasping at every contact, arching off the bed against him as he worked to remove every item of clothing with the same methodical quietness for each.

He undressed her, pressing kisses to her skin revealed.

She felt completely lost without the knowledge that she had complete control.

Here she was, lying beneath Noah's smouldering gaze, her hair haloed around her head, completely naked and content to do absolutely nothing about the fact that she had completely surrendered herself to whatever he wanted to do to her.

So long as he never stopped touching her, massaging her breasts and twisting her nipples between his fingers .

So long as he never topped kissing her with those full, pliant lips, his slight stubble scuffing her skin sending thrills of heat between her legs.

She gave a guttural moan as his path of kisses travelled lower and lower, trailing between her hipbones, his thumbs rubbing teasing circles on the insides of her thigh.

She bucked her hips into his and he buried his panted moan against the sensitive skin between her legs.

A finger pushed testingly inside her.

"Don't hold it in", he ordered haltingly, breathlessly, and she rewarded him with a loud wanting gasp as his tongue swiped boldly inside her.

His fingers dug into her thighs.

Her hands fisted in the bedsheets.

He raised himself up again, pressing a messy kiss to her mouth as a second finger plunged inside her.

She groaned, tasting herself on his tongue trailing off into another gasp, bucking into his hand.

She watched him watching her, losing herself in his hungry expression, desperately gaining control of her arm muscles to lift her hands to pull weakly at the waistband of his pants.

"I need you Noah", she mumbled.

He merely added a third finger.

He barely curled his fingers inside her and she was clenching around them, repeating his name over and over.

She didn't register him struggling out of his pants and throwing them across the room.

She didn't notice him tearing open a condom packet and rolling one on.

And just as she was beginning to be able to remember her own name, he thrust into her, filling her completely.

"_Fuck_", she hissed, screwing her eyes shut as a wave of pleasure washed over her, and drops of perspiration formed on his forehead.

He bent her legs either side of him, and set a scorching pace.

Rachel clung to him, meeting his thrusts with enthusiasm, meeting his sloppy, wet kisses with equal recklessness, harmonising his intermittent noises of pleasure.

They came together, hot and loud.

Just the way he said her name pushed her over the edge.

It was different.

Different in a good way.

Different in the best way possible.

But she still left him sleeping heavily, carefully moving the arm he had draped over her and carefully avoiding gazing longingly over his gorgeous face.

* * *

Please review :)


	2. Chapter 2

Him

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from glee.

AN: THANK YOU! Because I was totally blown away by the response of subscriptions and reviews for this whimsical story :)

Very happy that you guys are enjoying this, and hope you continue to do so.

So on with part 2 (of 3)

Comments welcome :)

Bree.

* * *

**Part 2: I Bet You Can**

"Shit it's _him_".

"Him? How very descriptive", Santana quipped.

Rachel rolled her eyes, pulling Santana roughly behind the display of floor mops by the wrist.

"It's _him_", she hissed again, insistently.

Light dawned in the Latina's eyes.

"Him? Shit- it's _him_".

"That's what I said!"

"Him!" Santana repeated excitedly, a sly smile twitching her lips. "Him, as in, the guitar guy you fucked and drifted around for _months_ afterwards in a sort of daze".

"I slept with him _two weeks_ ago", Rachel pointed out, peering out to steal a glance of the unmistakable well-built mohawked Noah Puckerman.

"Well go and say hi then", Santana urged.

"Are you _kidding_?" Rachel squealed. "He didn't call!"

Santana raised her eyebrow.

"He didn't have your number! You got in- got off- got out…"

"That's what you're supposed to do…"

"Supposed to do? What the hell are you talking about woman? You spent _one night_ with the guy and you haven't stopped dreaming about his amazing arms since!"

"Not just his arms…" Rachel began distractedly, then slapped her hand over her mouth when she realised what she was admitting.

Santana barked with laughter.

"You crazy midget", she said affectionately. "Now go or I will go and tell him…"

"I'm going", Rachel said hastily, knowing all too well that Santana had way too much ammunition against her in this kind of situation.

"Oh- before I forget- you gunna be my shared maid of honour with Britt or am I gunna have to rely on the woman who doesn't know the difference between serviettes and tablecloths?"

Rachel smiled slowly at Santana's roundabout way of telling her she was engaged.

"Congratulations", she said warmly, enveloping her friend in a hug.

Santana blushed.

"Alright, alright", she mumbled, "Save some of the sex for Mr Gorgeous".

With a pretend glare, Rachel started confidently towards Noah, her mouth dry as her eyes strayed as he bent to pick up something from the lower shelf.

She didn't know quite what she was expecting his greeting to be, but he shocked her with his bitter words since a pleasant warmth was already tingling her senses just thinking about their last encounter.

"Rachel Berry".

He almost spat out her name.

"Noah", she whispered.

"Oh quit the innocent girl act", he muttered darkly.

"What?"

He looked confused for a second but gathered himself again quickly.

"You never showed up at the bar again", he stated.

"You did?"

There was a tense silence.

"I thought…"

"You thought wrong", he interrupted harshly.

"I didn't take you back to my apartment because I thought you were the type of girl who was up for anything and would just leave without a word in the morning", he said, his eyes still cold.

"You didn't?", she offered weakly.

He just narrowed his eyes dangerously in response.

"Can we talk?" She tried again.

"We are talking".

"I didn't used to be like this", she tried to explain, but there just weren't the right words to make an effective plea.

"I don't care how messed up you were in the past", he shot back, "Hell, you sure as fuck weren't as messed up as I was. I do care about the fact that the one girl I let in since…since _ages_… and I've been so _goddamn_ careful…"

"Let's at least go somewhere more private", Rachel urged.

He huffed in annoyance, and grabbed her around the elbow, effectively marching her over to the department store's bathrooms, not letting go until the mother and baby changing room's door was locked safely behind them.

"There's nothing you can say to me", he muttered.

"_Noah_…"

"Don't fucking 'Noah' me", he bit back. "Only my ma calls me Noah".

They stood glaring at each other for a few moments.

"This wasn't exactly how I'd imagined meeting you again", Rachel admitted quietly, almost under her breath.

He pretended to ignore her.

She laid a hand on his arm. "Please…"

"Don't touch me", he snapped, pulling his arm away.

She exhaled sharply, angrily.

"Why the hell are you acting so pissed at me?" She demanded. "You're a guy- I provided you with some 'wet pussy to pound into'- you got what you wanted- what more do you expect me to do for you?"

"Did you ever think that people other than you have feelings?" He snarled, sarcasm dripping from his question.

"How would I know what your feelings are?" Rachel returned sharply, "We barely know each other! We're not even _friends_".

His eyes flashed.

"If I barely know you", he began, "How is that I know that if I lick the inside of your wrists you'll be already creaming your panties".

"You're disgusting", Rachel admonished, making a face.

"You're not denying it", he taunted.

"Prove it", she whispered.

"What?"

"Show me you know me. 'Cos you don't. You aren't even close to knowing me… "

He stared at her with his head on his side for what seemed like ages, and abruptly snatched her wrist.

"Ouch!"

"That didn't hurt", he argued.

He held her wrists in one hand tightly, roughly pushing them against the wall above her head, walking her backwards until she was pinned against the wall by his tensed body.

"You're just a girl who gets what she wants and then doesn't want it any more", he said.

"You don't know me", Rachel replied steadily.

"Maybe I don't want to know you", he bit back.

His eyes were so hard she couldn't tell if he was lying or not.

He let out an angry breath and moved his legs to clamp hers between them.

"I bet I know you well enough to make you cum in your underwear", he offered, and for a second, the irate barrier revealed signs of a need that she recognised.

Her heart rate shot through the roof.

"I bet you don't", she ventured half-heartedly.

She knew he wouldn't stop until he did.

She didn't want him to ever stop.

"You're wearing a fucking _miniscule_ skirt- s'easy".

She struggled slightly in his strong grasp, partly because she was so uncomfortably pinned against the wall, and partly because his unrelenting taught body's close proximity was driving her crazy because she couldn't touch him.

Without warning he crashed his lip against hers forcefully, his tongue demanding immediate access, a kiss that was an intriguing mixture of passion and anger.

A kiss in which she wasn't sure which emotion was winning.

But he _was_ kissing her, and she was reawakening those feelings that only he had released before, and so she fully opened her mouth to encourage him, and responded with feverish enthusiasm, not even noticing how his grip loosened as she rolled her hips against him.

He pulled away, breathing hard, his hand clenching and unclenching around her wrists.

"I bet you can't", she managed, moistening her lips with her tingling tongue.

She bet he could.

He raised his eyebrows.

"What do I get if I win this bet?" He asked in a low voice.

She bit back a wanton moan, cramping in her back from her position.

"You get me", she gritted out, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"You get to fuck me up against this wall", she expanded, breathless at just the anticipation, a coy grin on her face as his eyes rolled back in his head at her cursing and the gravity of her offer.

"I don't need your permission", he warned her darkly, and her insides clenched with animalistic thrill.

"And I don't need your permission to leave you asleep after a night of meaningless sex", she cut in, revelling in the dangerous glare she received in response.

"If it was so fucking meaningless- why the fuck did you come over and talk to me again?" he spat out, before assailing her mouth again, with renewed vigour.

She tore her mouth from his, his breath hot on her face.

"Let me go!" She gasped.

"No", he said shortly. "Not before I've won this bet".

Her entire skin flushed and a whimper escaped her lips.

Embarrassed, she bucked wildly against him desperate to gain some sort of control.

He gave a rumbling laugh, lowering his mouth to her neck to nip lightly at the sensitive skin there.

"Stay still", he growled, "good girl".

"You're an asshole Puckerman", she muttered, and he silenced her with a harsh wet kiss to her lips.

Desire shot through her.

She writhed against his hard body.

His free hand slid roughly up from her hip, pushing up under her top to cup her breast.

She bit her lip, refusing to let the tirade of moans to fall from her lips as he wreaked havoc with her senses.

He was grinding erratically against her, his arousal pushing into her again and again.

He sucked and licked all over her neck, biting on her pulse point without being at all gentle.

He nibbled a path down her chest, catching her skin through the material of her top, not stopping and biting harder at the points of her nipples.

A noise of frustration sounded in her throat.

He wasn't going to stop.

He wasn't going to give her what she wanted.

He was going to have her falling apart without even touching her.

He kissed her full on the mouth, and she was no longer able to prevent a needy groan filling his mouth.

His thrusts became stronger, pushing her up and back against the wall.

His hand freed her wrists, but he caught them quickly before she could even try to relieve her building frustration.

It twisted as a coil of heat inside her, ready to explode at any moment.

"Please touch me", she whined, writhing again.

He ignored her completely, and when she forced her heavy eyelids open she found that he was staring at her.

She struggled to keep herself together at the pure, unadulterated lust that was filling his eyes.

He gave a smug smile, thrusting hard into her and pulling her wrists up to his mouth.

His tongue and lips and teeth caressed the insides of her wrists in turn, his eyes fluttering closed, as though every fibre of his being was concentrated on finding her limits.

She gasped loudly as he stilled.

"Say my name", he ordered in a strained voice.

"Don't stop Puckerman", she choked out, "I'm… _I'm…_"

He dropped her wrists and slammed right up against her, crushing her body between his and the wall.

"Say my _name_", he repeated, an octave lower than before.

"Noah", she moaned, "_Noah"._

He rolled his hips and she grunted out his name once more, throwing her head back against the wall as her body shuddered and clenched.

Somehow, through the fog of pleasure she had the presence of mind for her hand to find the bulge in his pants.

She must have managed to slip her hand down into his boxers because as he collapsed against her, he was spilling in her hand and cursing her name into the crook of her neck.

They stayed like this, a tangle of limbs and boneless bodies for a long time.

It was a rapping knock on the door and a screaming baby that had them stumbling apart, desperately smoothing clothing that was never going to completely flatten. Ever again.

They fell out of the changing room, and Rachel couldn't look directly at the bewildered woman, hurrying hastily through the store staring avidly at the pattern on the lino floor.

She looked behind her and Noah was gone, making a beeline for the bathrooms without looking back.

* * *

"Rach- where the fuck have you been?" Santana demanded, grabbing Rachel's arm as she came up behind her.

Then, after a second.

"Where the fuck did you just have sex with Hercules?"

Rachel turned a stricken face to her.

"In the baby changing room", she whispered, terrified. "We didn't even…"

Santana burst out into laughter.

"You dirty girl", she giggled, "Now tuck your skirt out of your knickers and don't try and tell me you don't want to see him again... You look like you've just discovered the dildo".

* * *

Please review :)


	3. Chapter 3

Him

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from glee.

AN: Your reviews are amazing- thank you!

Part 3 out of 3. However, I have enjoyed writing this, and hope to continue this at some point if people think I should, so thanks to the support of my lovely readers :)

Comments welcome :)

Bree.

* * *

**Part 3: Beautiful**

"That's _beautiful _San! And it's _huge_!"

Santana grinned widely, admiring the engagement ring herself on her hand flat on the kitchen table.

"I know right? It was his grandmother's…"

She squirmed slightly, blushing.

Rachel still couldn't believe that a girl who had spent most of high school relating her appearance to a variety of unattractive _men_, and had had a certain reputation of a high degree of promiscuity, would sit over coffee for often hours at a time and _blush_ whenever her, now fiancé, was mentioned.

"You still have that awful cat shaped teapot? I thought you would have got rid of that when you had that giant clear out when I moved out".

Rachel laughed, but mainly because of Santana steering the conversation away from talking about her feelings.

"Britt wouldn't let me chuck it out", she explained, "She loves it".

"She would", Santana said affectionately. "Nutter".

"So are you excited about becoming Mrs Rutherford?" Rachel asked, her eyes wide in innocence.

For once, Santana didn't shy away or switch the topic.

"Fucking excited", she muttered shyly.

Rachel took a sip of her coffee, and there was a comfortable lull in conversation.

"How did you know that he was the one?" She asked quietly, "Out of all the guys you've…erm… known..?"

Santana shrugged.

She took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to explain as best she could.

"I just _knew_… I know that' not what people want to hear- they want there to be some sort of formula, they want there to be some set time scale, and a definitive list of feelings you're supposed to feel at every landmark… It doesn't work like that".

Rachel was silent, thoughtful.

Santana twisted her coffee mug in her hands.

"It's not this perfect story", Santana continued, staring slightly into the distance through the Manhatten apartment window. "It's not even like one of your angsty Broadway shows… There's no script, there's no chapters, there's no known order… But you know it's right, because it's beautiful and nothing else is in comparison".

Rachel nodded dumbly, blinking rapidly to clear her misted eyes.

She got up slowly, curling her arms around the friend she'd never thought she'd had, and closed her eyes to see all the things she always thought she would have, but didn't.

* * *

She was washing up later, drawing idle patterns in the bubbles, humming softly through a few possible wedding party songs that she could add to her already long list.

He was the last person she expected to come to the door.

The time gap was shorter (it had been just a week since their clandestine tryst in the changing room at the department store) but her body's reaction to seeing him again was just the same.

It was like seeing a pool of water after walking for days in the desert.

Her throat was as dry as the Sahara.

"Hi", she croaked, unable to move.

He was wearing a blue shirt, the sleeves hurriedly pushed up, and his nipple ring visible through the thin material.

His eyes were trained on her face, as though reading her.

"Turns out you know Mike Chang too", he started casually.

Rachel swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, I know Mike Chang- the dancer?"

He didn't answer, and his eyes bore into hers.

"So I figured I didn't get my reward", he said lowly.

"Your reward", she echoed carefully.

He took a step into the apartment, letting the door swing shut behind him.

She was rooted to the spot, her breathing quickening with the heat radiating from his body.

"Yes my reward", he said. "We had a bet".

She gulped as his eyes flicked to her lips.

She was wearing trackies and a baggy sweatshirt and no make-up, her hair was swept into a messy pin on the back of her head, and was still slightly damp from having just had a shower.

And he was looking at her like she'd just stepped off a playboy photo shoot.

"We did…" She said, confirming with a small nod.

He smirked, and a slither of heat targeted her core.

"You bet I couldn't make you cum in your panties", he reminded her, his voice a silken murmur as he closed the gap between them, centimetres separating their two bodies.

His thumb on her chin jerked her face up to his.

"You did", he growled.

"I did", she whispered.

Of course she did.

One of his hands curled round the back of her head to undo the clip that held her hair there, and he threw it sideways onto the table beside the carton of orange juice.

His fingers twisted in her hair.

Her heart beat against her ribcage.

She pulled at the waistband of his pants, her fingers tickling the warm skin beneath.

"I have to see you", he muttered, "You… _jeeez…_ you".

She rocked forward onto the balls of her feet, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He could make her forget.

He could make her remember.

She stepped away from him then, backwards, and pulled her sweatshirt over her head in one swift movement, dropping it haphazardly on the floor beside her.

She knew he could see her bra through the white tank top she was wearing. He could see enough to want to know if she was wearing matching purple lacy underwear.

"Rach", he groaned softly.

"Come and get your reward Noah", she ordered gently. "Come and get me".

She took another step backwards but he was quicker, hurrying forwards and grabbing her hips firmly.

His fingers splayed, pushing her tank top aside to rest on bare skin.

Her heart beat against his chest.

His mouth ghosted a pathway up her neck before pressing against hers, and she had missed him.

She had missed the way he smelt, missed the way he tasted.

She just missed _him._

He kissed her gently, unhurriedly, their lips melting together.

He kissed her like he meant it.

One hand left her side to curl round the back of her head, and she eagerly welcomed the tip of his tongue into her mouth.

Just when she was beginning to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen, he pulled back, dragging out her bottom lip between his teeth.

She gave a low moan, meeting his smouldering gaze.

"I'm glad you came", she said, managing sincerity over breathlessness.

"You first", he replied, with a devilish grin.

And he was kissing her again, more insistently, and a week was far too long a time without him.

But he was there now, and that was far more important.

He was the only one who could start an uncontrollable forest fire inside her, and coax that fire into every fibre of her being.

And the feeling was addictive.

It wasn't just a whimsical wanting she felt for him, it was an all-consuming, desperate _need _for his proximity.

His lips latched onto her neck, and she craned to the side, dropping a wet kiss onto his shoulder, willing him to have more access.

He had told himself that he didn't need to see her again.

He had told himself that it was just because he hadn't been in the game for a while, it was the fresh exhilaration of the first match after a long injury recovery period.

But he was lying.

It was just… her.

His hands pushed up underneath her tank top to play havoc with her tingling skin, pushing up the top and pulling it over her head in one swift movement.

Her body arched against him.

"Noah".

The way she said his name.

He was back to kissing her with fierce intensity, and somehow she managed to undo his shirt buttons with scrabbling fingers without his brain properly registering her movements.

Her hot mouth caught his sigh as her small warm hands run over his abdomen.

His muscles jumped under her fingertips.

He tightened his grip on her hips, and in between panted breaths started a scorching path of kisses across her collar bone, flicking his tongue out across the swell of her breasts, catching the lace of her bra.

Impatient, Rachel fought the fog of desire hijacking her mind and twisted her hands behind her to flick open her bra strap, letting it drop to the ground.

She was rewarded with his talented hands cupping and massaging her breasts.

Her body responded to his touch like no other, and at that moment, she was sure that she would be able to distinguish him out of a line-up completely blindfolded.

Something she definitely couldn't say of any of the others.

But this was him, and her body seemed to hum his name as the heat bubbled inside her.

His hands moved down to grip the top of her thighs, briefly nipping at both hard nipples with gentle teeth before setting onto his knees before her.

She uttered a pleasured sound halfway between a gasp and a guttural moan.

He pressed a soft kiss to her navel, tucking his thumbs into the waistband of her trackies and pulling them swiftly down her legs along with her underwear.

She stumbled slightly, her legs jelly at just the sensation of his hot, laboured breaths on the sensitive skin of the inside of her thighs.

He smoothly positioned her hands on his strong shoulders and shuddered slightly as her fingernails dug into the solid muscle, scattering kisses between her hipbones and his thumbs rubbing caressing circles on her thighs.

She received a sudden rush from his looking after her, even in this very small way.

It was an unusual feeling to extend trust to a man that wasn't either of her dads.

She was even beginning to doubt her ability to entirely look after herself.

He pushed a finger inside her and she lost the ability to think in straight lines.

"_Noah"_.

He added another finger, and was much too soon removing them, producing a frustrated growl and a helpless bucking of hips from Rachel.

She forgave him the second his tongue pressed firmly and plunged deep inside her.

It became difficult to distinguish between his fingers and his mouth, and his name repeatedly stumbled out of her parted lips.

She clung to him as he taught her to experience heights of pleasure never reached before.

As she began to clench about him he rocked back onto his heels, rubbing her over the edge with his thumb and forefinger, her wild dark eyes meeting his burning with lust and heavy lidded.

She held onto him as the waves subsided.

He straightened up, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her forehead.

"You're _fucking_ beautiful", he murmured.

Her heart somersaulted in her chest.

And he was beautiful too.

His hand found hers hanging uselessly at her side, and entwined their fingers.

It was a while before he spoke, and he stopped her from closing the gap that he had opened between them with a sharp shake of his head.

"Do you want to go get something to eat? … there's this place… I think you'll like it".

She blinked at him in surprise.

He shuffled his feet.

"I figured I wanna get to know you… you know- cos it's _you_".

She smiled up at him and nuzzled her face against his chest, her smile stretching further across her face when he hugged her close.

And she felt like singing and dancing and phoning everyone she knew to tell them she was going on a date with Noah Puckerman.

Because it was him.

And she wasn't going to give him up.

* * *

Please review :)


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